These Heartfelt Lies
by clouds2011
Summary: Elena refuses to give up on Stefan, and after 3x02 Damon won't either. But the road to the Ripper is a bloody one, especially since Stefan flipped the switch. Working with Damon can only lead to traitorous feelings, and soon turn into heartfelt lies.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Well, this is my first fanfiction. Not sure what that means to you, but just wanted to put that out there. :) And please alert me of any spelling mistakes and whatnot. Currently a one-shot but will probably continue on with more chapters. It will probably also half follow the show, with my own plot twist. **

**Read and Review!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Vampite Diaries. Wish I did, though :) It's a bloody good show. **

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><p>It's been a month after he last saw Damon, but Stefan's not lost.<p>

You can't be lost when you don't want to be found.

It's a classic two story white house, with paint chipping across the porch. A porch swing rocks back and forth as a brown haired girl rests on it. Then it swings erratically, as a new stranger appears on the porch. Inside the friendly looking home comes a terror filled scream, and a muffled gurgling.

As the dark haired girl jumps to her feet, the predator on the porch pounces, reaching for the girl's neck. Her agonized scream is almost like music to his ears. Then all too quickly it's over. Her pulse slows and she falls into a comatose state. She can't scream anymore, he notes almost disappointedly.

Klaus pats his shoulders comfortingly. "You are rusty, comrade. What happened to the Ripper?" he chides, amused. Remnants of his snack trickle down Stefan's chin and he doesn't bother to wipe it away. All he sees is the blood. But a flash of guilt. This girl, one of many, had a family. She had a life. She even had a boyfriend, one who stroked her hair softly, just as Stefan is doing now. Just as he did for Elena.

Klaus impatiently breaks into his brooding thoughts. "I thought we were through with the brooding, Ripper." Stefan's grip on the girl tightens, and then relaxes.

He let Elena go. She was safe from him, safe from Klaus. Damon would ensure that.

Klaus walks back into the quiet isolated house, probably to finish the girl's housemate, and calls over his shoulder, "Finish up your dinner. We're still a day away from the witches."

He gives a brilliant sadistic smile. "And tomorrow's a full moon."

Stefan nods, and unceremoniously drops the girl's broken body. He almost winces at the small whimper it elicits from her, but remembers he isn't supposed to.

He tries to ignore the sounds from inside, the shrieks and the sound of a losing struggle. Stefan withdraws into his thoughts, retreating to a place where he can simply think. Almost snidely he thinks about how the blood washed away most of his rational thought, only focusing in on the hunt. Sensing the dangerous area he is venturing into, he switches mindsets.

The witches. They have to help kill Klaus, Stefan thinks desperately. Klaus hasn't revealed his plan to Stefan yet, casually the brushing him off with a secretive small grin and, "Not yet, comrade. But soon."

Stefan only knows whatever Klaus is planning isn't good.

Stepping over the girl's body to follow Klaus inside, he can't resist one more bite. He dips one finger in the oozing red from her neck and licks it, reveling in the dark taste of the blood. He can still taste her fear. He steps away from the dying girl, disgusted with himself.

He remembers the taste of Elena's blood, so sweet and full of love. He wonders if Damon drinks her blood now, if Elena offers it to him. His fangs elongate once more as his eyes turn dark and bloodied. It isn't doing him any good, thinking of Elena. Especially since now he must keep her safe and hide her existence from Klaus. But he can't help it, the feelings come anyway. He knows what he must do to make the guilt and hurt and jealousy fade, only to become a minor problem in the haze of blood.

He rips into her arm with his teeth, wishing he hadn't overzealously gone for the neck first. Her screams aren't very loud. The whimpers are pathetic, and the animal in him is disgusted with the weak prey. But, he rationalizes, he must end it for her. A simple act of pity for the fatally wounded prey.

He can't deny the feeling of weightlessness the blood gives him— everything that matters fades away. She doesn't deserve to die, he distractedly thinks, hovering over her, fangs bared. So he will not kill her. The lie comes swift and easy.

But again, he can't resist testing his sharp canines on her skin, ripping and tearing into the girl. Her brown eyes flutter shut and her whimpers become even quieter. Then finally, as he rips into her neck once more, nothing.

Klaus opens the front door and licks his lips, blood of the girls roommate coloring his lips. "Tasty," he says, his eyes twinkling. His gaze falls on the girl and her shredded body. He sniffs, and then smiles his sly grin. "Full?" he asks, not minding the blood that was seeping across the white floorboards of the old house, coming awfully close to his expensive black boots.

Stefan nods and wipes his chin with the blanket on the rocking chair. The chair rocks back slightly, creaking on the old washed out floorboards of the porch. No one will ever rock in the chair again.

Stefan steps off the porch, a bloody footprint following him. Klaus speeds in front of him and holds a palm to his chest, stopping him. "Did you take care of your little... problem?"

Stefan gives him a confused, blank look.

Klaus's grin drops and his face becomes serious. "Your brother."

Stefan freezes, then relaxes. Sure, he had saved Damon's life (again), but that can't mean that he would keep searching for him, right? Even in his blood—high state he recognizes the lie. If Stefan still felt like he has a heart, he is sure it would stop beating.

"It's taken care of," he says coolly, not one hint of his inner turmoil clear in his voice. Klaus's smile returns, but there's a different bright spark in his eyes as he says, "Excellent."

He turns around, heading back into the darkness of the woods. Stefan stands frozen for a moment, thoughts on the girl, Damon, and Elena. As the blood drips down the chipped paint of the steps, he knows she won't be found until at least two days from now. The closest neighbors are at least a quarter of a mile away.

Damon. Elena. They have to stop looking for him. They have to know what he's decided to do. Flip the switch.

He'll succumb to the temptation, but he will get better. It's only for ten years, he thinks. It'll only feel like a moment. So he loses control for a moment. He bites what's left of the girl's neck and drinks a sip. To remind himself he still is somewhat in control, he stops. The struggle is already becoming difficult, but he stops. He must, if he is to convince them to give up. He dips his hand in the pool of blood from a particularly deep gash on her stomach. It's almost hard to believe that she's still bleeding, considering all the blood painting the previously white porch.

Only pausing a few times to either steal a few sips of the blood or re-submerge his hand for fresh writing ink, Stefan leisurely scrawls a haunting message on the white wall of the house. He takes so long that Klaus appears out of the woods, irritation marking his face.

When his cold gaze lands on the message written in blood on the wall, he says icily, "I thought the problem was taken care of."

Stefan can still feel the high the blood brings and the euphoria that follows. So he says, "Brothers are determined to help, aren't they?"

It's a low dig and he's not even sure it makes sense, but Stefan doesn't care. He only licks the blood still dripping on his fingers and smiles at Klaus.

Klaus stonily stares back before he breaks into another smile. "We're feeling quite better now, aren't we? Finally 'flipped the switch' ?"

Stefan only shrugs and walks down the steps. He brushes past Klaus with a certain confidence in his step and heads into the woods. As he starts to run, away from the bloody house, away from the dead girl and her wide, scared doe eyes, he feels free. The weight of Elena and Damon completely gone.

He can't worry about Elena's safety, or even begin to worry about his brother and his foolish determination to find him.

All he can think about is the hunger, the exhilarating predatory chase, the blood flowing freely from many bites, the tortured screams, the wide scared eyes, and the dead silence that always follows.

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><p><strong>AN: Now just click that little button... Yep, the one that says review...<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: And sorry about the delay. I've been super busy lately and have only just gotten around to finally typing this up and posting it. Hope the characters aren't to OOC. I had a tough time with Damon this chapter after the more recent episodes, up to The Reckoning. Well, enjoy, and please R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Vampire Diaries. I wish I did. It's a bloody amazing show(:**

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><p>For the first time in at least one hundred years of his undead life, the smell makes Damon want to gag.<p>

The house in rural Illinois is covered in blood.

Inside lies a blond girl, her gold hair matted with blood. Her blue eyes vacant; her finger rest on her neck. From the clean bites piercing her body, mainly her neck, Damon knows this one was Klaus' victim. His jaw clenches as he remembers the girl under the swing. Most definitely Stefan's chew toy.

He's glad he made Elena wait in the car. The gory image of a broken body discarded under a chair is a gruesome enough without adding in the dramatic words scrawled in blood on the peeling paint next to a dusty window.

_Stop looking _

_Don't make me kill you…_

— _Ripper_

He's so engrossed by the dramatic flair his brother always showed that the small gasp behind him comes as an expected surprise. He says flatly without turning around, his icy blue eyes still trained on the red words, "I said to wait in the car."

She ignores him, of course, and slowly steps onto the porch, the step creaking under her feet. "What—"

He gently bends down to close the dead girl's eyes, hating the way they were still wide in fear. Only then Damon turns around to face Elena, his eyes hard. Tears sparkle in her eyes as she finally sees the dead girl and dried pool of blood surrounding her. "Stefan," she says weakly, her eyes darting back to the message on the wall. Damon coldly stares at her, annoyed at her never-ending concern for baby brother's conscience.

"I told you he was out of control," he says quietly, trying to keep the seething tone from his voice. But he can't help it. Seeing her tears for the damage the senseless murdering of yet two _more _people has on Stefan's conscience irks the hell out of him. Her crazy belief that Stefan has a chance of coming back to her is just so ludicrous that he almost feels sorry for her. Then the tears come and he's back to square one. Loving someone who loves someone who is gone.

Elena turns to him, her eyes bright and says shakily, "I have—"

"—seen Stefan in his darkest place," Damon cuts in, already brushing past her to his car. He can't even count the number of times he's heard that same line over the past two weeks. Elena just crosses her arms over her blue v-neck shirt and frowns.

"You don't—" she starts, but Damon cuts her off once more, pulling gasoline from his Mustang's trunk. Along with stakes, vervain tranquilizers, and blood bags, it's what every twenty something male carts around in their trunk. The official equipment for a vampire hunting kit.

"—be an ass? Yeah, I kind of do," he snaps, his cold eyes blazing. "You need to get it through that thick skull of yours that Stefan hasn't always been munching on Bambi and his mother in the forest, picking off his little forest friends. He was a monster, Elena, just like I was."

Her chin rises indignantly as she steps off the porch, obviously angry at his behavior and words. "I _know_ Damon," she snaps back, stomping to the car. Damon ignores her and walks inside the house once more. At least this way, by avoiding the fire he was creating as he spread the gasoline throughout the house, Elena could still avoid the mess her boyfriend was creating. Damon hurriedly covered the rooms of the house, avoiding the dead girl in the kitchen.

He quickly lights the fire, and Damon can't help but feel slightly disturbed by how natural it almost feels to light the fire to burn another house. This probably makes more than twenty, he notes tiredly. He's been doing this since Florida. And if Stefan keeps this up then the story from mass murderer may just turn into crazed arsonist.

In the car Elena pulls her into a messy ponytail, ignoring the few wisps that escape. She watches the house burn, somewhat uneasy by how easily Damon lights the fire. She looks at the house, waiting for Damon to come out. This makes the seventh house… in just five days. Six in rural areas, one in a backwater town in Tennessee. Elena knows there's more, but Damon refuses to tell her. She can't help but wonder exactly how long he's been tracking Stefan, what information he simply won't share. It worries her.

Damon closes the front door gingerly, walking away from the burning porch with a grim expression. Elena's gaze drifts to the blood words before watching Damon walk to the car. The angry, vacant expression is familiar to her. He's looked that way since the incident in Kentucky. She always notices him watching her, hating the way he guardedly looked at her, as if expecting her to fall apart. Or hoping she would.

It stung that he no longer wanted her help, and the silly need to prove just how focused and determined she was had unwelcome consequences.

"_What the hell, Elena?" he hissed._

_Her eyes widened and she stared in horror at what lay in front of her. "Damon— I—"_

"_What did you do?"_

The sound of Damon slamming his door shut breaks her out of her memory walk. He doesn't say a word as he peels away from the house, leaving it behind. Elena can't help but notice how the words seem to burn last.

He speeds on the dirt roads, doing a reckless 70mph. Elena doesn't say a word— she learned not to criticize his driving back in North Carolina. To her relief in discomfort, Damon remains quiet, his fingers clenched around the steering wheel. She takes the moment to finally come to terms with the emotions she's felt since they started this road trip.

Elena is forced to admit that the brutality of Stefan's words shake her. How easy it is for him to kill. How he feels no remorse at all for even making the threat. She fingers her necklace as the words run circles in her mind.

_Kill you… Kill you…_

_Ripper…_

The excuse that Klaus makes him do these awful things flits through her mind, but even she knows it's getting old. She shivers slightly then immediately curses mentally. She hopes Damon doesn't notice. But of course he does.

"Finally scared, are you?"

She blinks away the sudden tears at his scathing tone and shakes her head, determined not to break. Not here, not now. Not in front of him. Never.

The car accelerates even more as Damon speeds onto the empty highway, continuing to Chicago. The Mustang speeds past 75mph, 80, 90. Elena nervously grips the seat, wryly wondering that after all the supernatural crap she managed to survive and all the sacrifices she made she'll simply die in a normal, human way— a car accident. Only a sadistic, psycho vampire that was in love with her would walk away unscathed.

Elena pushes away Damon's feelings with the same avoid, avoid, avoid tactics she had perfected since she kissed him.

"You're not scared, Elena? Haven't given up on St. Stefan yet?"

She hates the mocking lilt to his voice. "No," she says calmly, gripping the seatbelt so hard her knuckles turn white. "Unlike some people, or vampires, Stefan is still salvageable. There is some good left in him," she continues pointedly, fingering her vervain necklace.

_I hope._

The thought comes quickly and she forgets it just as fast. Avoid, avoid, avoid.

Damon's eyes flash but he says just as calmly, "Even after the slaughter house you're still willing to waste your life on Stefan? Hoping he comes back and you two continue you _Twilight _love affair? Then maybe you'll even turn into what your parents hated the most for him? Sacrifice everything for a person that isn't even _alive?_"

He practically spits the last words at her. Elena doesn't know what to say. There isn't much else to say, really, other than, "It's none of your business, Damon."

A weak smile tugs at his lips and his eyes are a mixture of sadness and anger as they stare at her.

"Of course not, Elena. Just thought you should know baby brother's rehab won't take a day or two in the dungeon of self-brooding and whatever else causes premature wrinkle lines."

She already knows this, but can't stop herself from asking.

"Then how long will it take?"

His eyes turn back to the road as he merges onto another highway, slowing down to avoid hitting cars. Minutes pass and Elena almost wonders if he heard her, even with vampire hearing.

"Damon?"

"With Lexi? Couple months, couple years. Depends on Stefan's problem with self-loathing and how open his is too animal blood after being high on human."

Her breath catches in her throat.

"Without?" he continues, ignoring her gasp.

"A decade. Maybe even a lifetime."

_Your lifetime._

She stiffens at the implied words and wipes away the few tears that dare leak from the corner of her eyes. Damon keeps quiet and doesn't say another word. The drive continues in silence, neither willing to break the stone silence. She opens Stefan's journal, but the words swim before her eyes after she reads the first entries. Damon gently tugs the journal from her fingers and says softly, "Go to sleep, Elena."

She watches the road and other cars fly past before she closes her eyes, wearily remembering one last thought before she slips away into the welcoming darkness. She can't help but feel as though she's being left behind.

Damon strokes her hair after her heart slows into a steady, comforting beat. He hates to see her go through this and hates how she refuses to give up. He simply can't risk anymore mistakes and can't risk her life anymore. He still tries to forget how things went horribly wrong in Kentucky. After a moment he realizes he needs to remember, needs to know that that is why he doesn't deserve Elena. Stefan still might, even on his human killing rampage. At least his younger brother still has a piece of his conscience, no matter how deeply it's buried inside of him.

"Love you," he says softly to Elena's sleeping form, still liking to say it to her when she sleeps. Even though she never hears him to say it back. Not that she would say it anyway. But she kissed him, and that has to mean something. But he knows it was only a pity kiss to take with him as he died.

He continues to stroke her hair as he drives into Chicago, praying that he will find Katherine where he thinks she'll be. He better find her, or his plan will simply crumble and he'll be right back where he started.

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><p>"So who are we looking for?" Stefan asks, lazily sidestepping a woman hurriedly walking past him on the crowded sidewalk, a phone pressed to her ear. Around him, throngs of people busily rush, not stopping to apologize for the elbows they pelt each other with. Klaus glares at a man who only rudely pushes past him and glares back.<p>

Stores line the busy sidewalk and streets; the air is filled with noise. Klaus calmly continues walking, crossing several streets and crosswalks, ignoring Stefan's question. Stefan glances away in annoyance but dutifully follows Klaus, distracted by the gold-covered woman that winks down at him. He smiles back disinterested. Her blood probably tastes like lead, he thought.

Klaus finally turns around and points to a bar with a flashy neon sign that drawls, _Gloria's._ Klaus smiles wickedly and says, "Welcome to Chicago, Ripper," before gesturing to the door. Stefan curiously gazes at the sign, recognizing the place from his Ripper days.

His Ripper days nearly a hundred years ago, early twentieth century.

Klaus pushes open the door and heads straight to the bar, ordering two drinks. Stefan steps inside, noticing the familiar surroundings of the bar. As he slides into the seat beside the Original, Klaus puts a drink in front of Stefan and raises his glass for a toast.

"To a new Ripper era, one filled with more blood than the last," Klaus says, his ever present smile beaming once more.

Stefan smiles back and adds, "And more hybrids, too," knowing it is still a touchy subject for the hybrid. Klaus' face darkens before he lets it slip away and throws his glass back.

"Cheers," Stefan says, copying Klaus' movements.

After another round Klaus finally motions to the small but tough looking African American bartender.

"Please fetch the head witch for me, darling," he says, smiling again, "and tell her it's Klaus. And please, ask her how's Rebecca, will you?"

The young woman nods curiously, surprised, before checking the nearly empty bar for any customers that need new drinks. She disappears into the back and appears moments later with an older, darker woman with cropped dark grey hair.

Stefan easily recognizes her from the time he spent at the bar in the early 1900s, and already knows her to be the owner of the establishment.

"Hello, Gloria," Klaus says pleasantly.

Gloria nods tersely before glancing at Stefan. "Stefan Salvatore. It's been awhile."

Before Stefan can speak Klaus cuts in, enjoying the witch's apprehension and suspicion.

"How's Rebecca?" he asks. Gloria glares at him.

"Dead. You stabbed her; you should know. We didn't remove the dagger. And she's still dressed in that dress from forever ago."

Klaus grins and rises. "Excellent. Take me to her. It's time for little sister to wake up."

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><p><strong>AN: Ya. It's late. I'm tired. Again, hope the characters aren't too OOC. Let me know what ya think. And Ripper Stefan is pretty funny(:<strong>

**Just putting that out there.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Well, hello. Here is Chapter 3, I guess, and for the sake of the story Andie is not dead... yet. Mwhahaha. And this is different than the show, but still not a crossover fic. And it is a bit long because I couldn't figure out where to split it. Anyway. MY BIRTHADY IS ON THURSDAY! HAHA! :D So do not be alarmed if I do/do not update. Haven't decided if I'll give my few readers a gift on my birthday. Well, on with the chapter!**

***I accidently uploaded the unfinished rough draft earlier, and it was so late I forgot to check to make sure it was the right copy. So sorry! This is actually Chapter 3, so sorry about the confusion. And please, please, R&R. **

**And the stuff in italics are flashbacks. Yep. You probably figured that out, but it didn't hurt to mention it...**

**Disclaimer: Don't own the Vampire Diaries. I wish I did, though. It's a bloody good show(:**

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><p><em>Three weeks earlier:<em>

_"Why," Damon groaned, dropping the manila folder on the news desk, "do I feel that you have not thought this through?"_

_Andie frowned, tears forming in her eyes. "I have, Damon. I'm only asking for your help. Why can't you do this for me?"_

_Damon stared at his girlfriend. Sure, he probably owed her for all the help she's been, using her news connections to help track Stefan's monstrous attacks. But what she was asking was simply ludicrous._

_"But Andie," he said patiently, "you can't be serious."_

_Andie's gaze hardened and the forced fake tears vanished. She hastily stood, angrily shoving her papers into her chic over shoulder laptop bag. Damon remained seated, staring up at Andie._

_"Andie," he started, "you have to understand why I can't do this."_

_Andie bitterly whirled around to face him. "I understand perfectly," she bit out, her face furious. "Because you have to protect Elena. It will always be Elena with you."_

_Damon stood and reached for her arm but she pulled away._

_"But I can't break up with you," she spat, "because no matter how much I hate you I can't help but love you." Andie backed away and wrenched her office door open._

_"And I hate it."_

_Damon gaped at his girlfriend. Or chew toy, the worst part of him whispered. He hadn't realized what compelling her to love him, to never leave him, could do to her subconscious. Andie was at war with herself, torn between the masochistic relationship she had with a vampire or an easy, stress free romance with her costar._

_Andie suddenly turned to face him, her anger gone. "Stop making me do this, Damon," she pleaded softly. "Please."_

_Damon slowly shook his head. He couldn't. If he did there simply wouldn't be anyone left to care what happened to him. There wouldn't be anyone to love him; there wouldn't be anyone to see past the monster he was. Because no matter how many times Elena claimed he mattered, or how much she supposedly cared, it would always be Stefan. He stepped closer to her, reaching past her to close the door, and titled her chin so she was staring straight into his eyes. Damon just couldn't give up the one person that loved him for who he was, monster and all. Not yet. It was a selfish thing to do, but Damon was past sacrificing his happiness for other people's chance at joy._

_"Forget we had this conversation," he said softly, "Just remember I said I'll think about going to Kentucky with you, and we'll talk it over at dinner tonight, at the boarding house."_

_Andie repeated what he said, her eyes glassy. Damon softly placed a kiss on her lips, and the spell was broken. A bright smile graced Andie's face as she kissed his cheek, pulling her office door open once more._

_"Thank you, Damon. I love you," she said, backing out of her office. "See you at dinner."_

_He watched with his icy blue eyes as Andie walked down the hall, about to turn the corner, before she suddenly crashed into her anchor partner, Mark. With his sandy blond hair and warm brown eyes, women swooned over his golden-boy persona. Everyone could clearly see Mark was smitten with Andie, and for a moment their coworkers believed the two would soon become an item. That was before Mystic Falls' most eligible bachelor had stepped in, expressing interest in the newswoman. Mark, of course, had been left behind as Andie enjoyed being pursued by the mysterious, sexy Damon Salvatore._

_Andie's warm laugh, while amazing, sounded nothing like Elena's, Damon noticed as he watched his girlfriend interact with her partner. Mark touched her arm, holding it longer than necessary as he steadied her. He laughed with her, his brown eyes drinking in the sight of her. He said something, something Damon wished he hadn't heard._

_"You look beautiful, Andie," Mark said, gently touching her cheek. Andie blushed, but a confused look overcame her face. She wasn't supposed to reciprocate those feelings, her subconscious knew that. It still didn't stop her from having them._

_"Thank you, Mark," she said, a teasing, loving light creeping into her eyes. "You don't look too bad yourself."_

_Mark grinned and brushed his hair out of his eyes. "You're too kind," he said dryly, his eyes still laughing._

_Damon felt slightly sickened by the easiness the two danced around each other with. Jealousy also appeared and he started toward the two, who were still exchanging flirtatious comments._

_"Would you like to get a drink later, Andie? I mean, we can get dinner at the grill too. You know, so we can catch up," Mark was saying._

_Damon froze. It was a moment of truth. Did Andie care about him enough to turn down her chance at an easy, golden life, one where she and her husband could grow old, have kids, and compare their gray hairs?_

_"I can't, Mark," Andie finally said, after a brief pause. "I'm meeting Damon tonight for dinner. Some other time, maybe?"_

_Mark's smile was strained and forced. "Of course, Andie. Have fun on your date tonight."_

_Mark brushed past her without another word, continuing down the hallway. Andie stood there for a moment, her back to Damon. As she finally began walking again Damon followed her, triumphant._

_He was no longer second best to anyone; someone finally loved him more._

_He had almost reached her at his leisurely pace, even as Andie continued walking, when he finally remembered he had compelled her to love him. He had forced her to make him number one._

_Damon didn't bother to stop Andie as she walked out the news station door, never once looking behind her to notice him._

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><p>"Why," Damon groaned, stomping over to the creaky stairs, "do I feel that you have not thought this through?"<p>

She frowned and tugged on the old staircase door. It didn't budge. "I have thought this through, Damon. You didn't even have to come with me. I told you to wait in the car."

Damon huffed, obviously annoyed at having been told to wait in the car like some sort of pet. He wasn't a dog. That was Tyler Lockwood's job for Klaus. Sit, Tyler. Watch the vampires that hate me. Stay, Tyler. Make sure the doppelganger is safe. Bad Tyler. Did you really have to date Caroline? Good boy. Did you bite the angry older Salvatore? _Good_ boy!

"I have the keys, you know," Damon drawled, shaking the keys in question, watching her fruitlessly struggle against the ancient worn door. "If I waited in the car I could just drive away and get a snack. I am awfully hungry…"

Elena gave up on pulling the handle and whirled to face him. "We don't have time for you to eat every girl you see, Damon. You should have eaten last night."

Damon leaned against the wall next to the door and stared down at her. "Sorry if I was too busy watching after your crazy ass and making sure you didn't wander the big city alone. I would hate for you to get lost, Elena."

Elena threw her hands in the air and glanced around the small lobby of the building. Old, antique furniture rested heavily on the dark floors and dreary drapes half covered the windows. It was a depressing building to be in.

"Fine," she huffed, her eyes glaring back at Damon. "Go ahead. Find some poor soul to bite."

Damon inched closer to her and his trademark smirk crept up his face, and he did his eye thing as he said huskily, "You offering?"

Elena flushed at his rough voice and swallowed. The thought of him feeding from her was repulsive, of course, especially the messy hurtful encounter they had when he thought she was Katherine. But she had remembered someone telling her a vampire's bite could be pleasurable, under certain circumstances.

"Never," she said shortly, pulling away from his entrancing, hungry gaze and turned to the door once more. She didn't like being regarded as a piece of vampire chow, but the hungry look Damon had been something more, she was sure of it.

Damon sighed and looked away; appraising the dump Stefan had lived in nearly 90 years earlier. _It__has__a__lot__of__character._ That was what he told Elena when she frowned at the place when they first pulled up. Character his ass. The place had definitely seen better years. Elena continued to grunt as she tried to pry the door open, but found it stuck. Damon reached around her and yanked the door open in one sharp tug, and she glared at him.

"And you couldn't have done that earlier?" she huffed, brushing her hands off. Damon rolled his eyes and gestured for her to start walking.

"I was having too much fun watching you try to open the door. But please, after you."

She pushed past him indignantly, muttering "You are such an ass" as she started up the stairs. Damon gave a quick grin then frowned when she ignored his comment about how nice his rear did in fact look. Nonetheless he dutifully followed Elena up the narrow stairs of the crumbling apartment building. It had been years since he had been to Stefan's Chicago hideout, and he didn't like having to return with Elena. She had been too quiet on the rest of the drive, and he hadn't liked the silence. She didn't respond, and only continued to tramp up the stairs until she reached the fourth floor.

"4C," she murmured to herself, pushing open the door to exit the staircase. Before she made it too far down the hall Damon quickly yanked her arm and jarred by the sudden motion she fell against his chest. She rested her head on his chest, her face open and weary, the last few days finally catching up to her.

"You don't have to do this," he murmured, gazing down at her. "I can just drop you off—"

At this Elena pulled away, her face drawn once more and a picture of perfect, infallible strength painted on her face. She walked away from Damon's grasp, walking backwards to glare at him.

"I'm fine, Damon. I can take care of myself," she snapped, and turned to back to the few doors down the hallway. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and followed after her, knowing that one of these days she would break, and he would have to refrain from the "I-told-you-so" and simply pick up those broken pieces.

He cut in front of her, much to her annoyance, and began leading her down the hall before a quiet sound pierced his ears. He would have ignored it, but the noise came from behind the door marked 4C. Elena didn't slow from behind him, completely unaware, and Damon continued with some suspicion. Then the noise sounded once more, slightly louder, but still too low for Elena to hear. Damon froze. Someone was definitely in the apartment. And he knew for certain the apartment was supposed to be free of any tenants.

He raised his hand in warning for Elena to stop moving, and the fearful look on her face as she stopped behind him cut through his heart. There was another shuffle from behind the door, loud enough for Elena to hear and she tore her eyes from Damon to the old face paled as the clacking noise seemed to head directly at the door and she opened her mouth, her eyes darting back to Damon. He ignored her wide eyes and pressed his hand over her mouth, pushing his body against hers as he shielded her body in the corner of hallway, moving too fast for the human eye to see.

He focused his gaze the fire extinguisher beside them as he pressed even closer to her, trying to ignore the tempting view of her neck when she craned her head in effort to see around him. Her lips moved under his fingers, and Damon had to resist the urge to cover them with his. She continued to crane her head, and Damon could hear the steady flow of her pulse beat. His gaze fixed itself to the alluring curve of her neck, and he desperately wished something would block the view of her healthy jugular anxiously tried to listen to hear the heartbeat of the intruder but with Elena's hammering heartbeat and the other tenants, he just couldn't tell if the person was even human.

Elena's eyes were wide as they stared at Damon. Her eyes flicked down to his hand that covered her mouth, then back to his icy eyes. He glanced away, cocking his head to hear the sounds coming from the apartment. There was a sort of scraping noise, and it sounded like something was being dragged across the floors of the apartment. The secret cupboard. No one knew about that. Only him and Stefan. The cupboard door was excellently concealed, and the only reason he had found it was because of the stench of blood emanating from behind the door.

His eyes widened as the realization dawned at him.

The intruder _couldn't_ be human. Which meant...

Elena's shifting body from underneath him shook him from his thoughts. She moved again, slightly grinding her body against his. His gaze snapped to her, pinning her with his penetrating gaze, and his eyes darkened. Under his hand, her lips parted gently and her brown eyes stared seriously at him. Elena's eyes dropped to his mouth before she flushed and flicked her eyes up to his again. The fear had almost completely disappeared from her eyes, but a small ounce of it seemed to be directed at him, not at the evil she knew lurked behind the apartment door.

At the smell of her primal fear in such a close proximity Damon steeled himself and licked his lips, his jaw aching.

There had simply been too much blood at the house yesterday and he hadn't fed in days, a foolish mistake but one he made nonetheless in attempt finally pin point Stefan's location with Judgey's help. And they arrived at the hotel late last night, and she has avoided his gaze and didn't say a word. The hunger was there last night, but he just couldn't bring himself to leave her when she was obviously still reeling from the horror house. No telling what she would do in her fragile state. Elena's heart beat even faster, and with her body flush against his it was hard to keep his fangs retracted. As he felt her wriggle under him again, he gave a low groan, but one still loud enough for her to hear.

He slowly lowered his face closer to hers, and she went deathly still. Theirs eyes remained locked on each other for the longest, and the hunger was so intense the muffled shuffles from the apartment were ling forgotten in the back of his mind. His mouth moved to ghost her jaw and she gasped. As his mouth ghosted across her cheek and eventually down to her pulse at her neck, her heartbeat skyrocketed as she stood still under his strong, muscled body. He pulled back to look into her dark eyes, and his mouth twitched slightly, as if he was still deciding what to say.

Before he could actually open his mouth to say—or god forbid, do— anything, a crash sounded from the apartment. The noise seemed to break Elena from whatever influence she had been under and she quickly dropped his mesmerizing gaze and let out the warm breath she had been holding, and it tickled his palm. She pulled on his hand, her warm breath grazing his palm as she murmured for him to let her go. The intense fear was back in her eyes, masking the hooded look her dark eyes had watched him with.

Damon slowly pulled away from her, confused. But before he could analyze what the hell had just happened another loud crash sounded behind door. He gestured for her to stay, but when he was only inches from the door she was of course there, her vervain grenade at the ready."Elena," he hissed, whirling to face her angrily, "What the hell are you doing?"

She glared right back and whispered, "Trying to help."

His eyes travelled to the grenade in her hand and he rolled his eyes, the threat behind the door temporarily forgotten. "What _exactly_ do you plan to do with that?"

She frowned and bent her knees, in what he supposed she though passed as a defensive stance. "I'm going to throw it at whoever is behind the door, Damon. What else would I do with it?"

Damon rolled his eyes and stepped soundlessly toward the door. "Put it down before you miss and hit me instead. I'd rather not get vervain-bombed, Elena."

She stood from her defensive stance and opened her mouth to deliver another biting comment but before she could he pushed down the door, and she hastily dropped to her protecting stance once more.

Damon walked in the apartment and was decidedly unsurprised at who waited for him on the worn couch. "Katherine," he said unenthusiastically. Sure, his plan needed her but seeing the bitch couldn't help but stir up a bit of annoyance and old anger.

She rolled her eyes. "About time you got in here, Damon. I wondered if you two planned to either bicker out there all day or finally get it over with and fuck each other senseless."

Damon was about to respond, but Elena, who had just recovered from her initial surprise and had rushed in and had not heard the vampires' exchange, quickly threw her grenade at Katherine, not looking to see who the intruder was. The grenade sailed past Katherine, nearly three feet away, and exploded over the open cupboard door. Damon and Katherine both stared at Elena and she fidgeted under their gaze. "What? She moved."

At both of the vampire's raised eyebrows and disbelieving gazes Elena stepped next to Damon and muttered, "I wasn't much of a shot anyway."

Damon only looked at her, exasperated and smug, and directed his attention back on Katherine. "Now that Buffy is done ridding the world of the smell of old blood, can we please move on? Where the hell have you been, Katherine? I've been looking all over for you."

Elena frowned and crossed her arms, looking to see where her grenade had in fact exploded.

"Missed me, Damon?" Katherine was saying, the teasing lilt to her sultry voice annoying Elena. She couldn't help that she didn't like the mirror version of her fawn over every vamp she met and flirt with the brother she had just grinded against in the hallway. It was disgusting. It was like watching her twin flirt with her ex-boyfriend. Which was completely wrong.

"Trouble in paradise already?" Katherine's snide comment was directed at Elena and Elena glared back defiantly, refusing to rise to Katherine's bait.

"We're just peachy," Damon returned lightly, leaning against the broken doorway of the apartment. His eyes flicked to Elena, watching as she inched toward the cupboard door. "I wouldn't do that, Elena," he called after her. She frowned at him.

"I can do whatever I want, Damon. With or without your approval."

"Yes," Damon said, slowly walking toward her, "but I have to return you back to Alaric in perfect condition. If you're bawling your eyes out when we get back he'll think I ate someone in front of you or some other protective dad crap like that."

Elena ignored him and ran to the cupboard door, curious to see what lay behind it. But before she could peek inside Katherine was there blocking her path.

"Move," Elena said to the vampire, still slightly uneasy by their uncanny resemblance. Katherine none to gently pushed Elena away, backing her right into Damon's waiting arms.

Elena's back was flush against Damon's chest, and she blushed at the close proximity she found them in again. But if Damon was thinking about their interaction in the hallway he didn't show it and instead he only had eyes for Katherine, even as he gripped Elena's upper arms tightly.

"Frankenstein finally seeing the monster he made?" Damon said lowly, shifting so Elena was no longer between the two vampires anymore.

Katherine turned to the wall of the cupboard, her eyes roaming over the endless list of names. Her face was uncharacteristically devoid of her usual teasing smirk as she read the list. Elena peered around Katherine to see the wall and gasped.

Damon tried to step in front of her but Elena had seen enough. "What is this, Damon?" Elena whispered, her voice unwavering but her eyes horrified. Damon didn't answer and instead stared wordlessly at Katherine as she slowly turned to face him and Elena.

"Every victim he killed," Katherine said slowly, her eyes blank and her voice dangerous, "is on this wall." When she finally focused her dark eyes on her doppelganger they were surprisingly filled with malice and slight contempt.

Elena pushed Damon aside and peered into the cupboard around Katherine, dread filling her as she noted how the list dragged on and on.

"Still think Stefan's so salvageable now?" Damon said quietly, his eyes watching her. From the undisguised heat in his blue eyes Elena knew he hadn't forgotten the hallway incident. She swallowed and turned to Katherine, eager to forget about what she almost let her boyfriend's older brother do outside in the empty hallway. "What do we do to fix him?"

Katherine's eyes were back to their curiously blank state and the taunting tone was back in her voice. "Are you sure you want to, Elena? You have Damon right here… And after how cozy you two were getting in the hallway…" her voice trailed off refused to look at Damon and kept her eyes trained on the brunette vampire. She knew her next words would hurt Damon but it was the right thing to do. What could have happened was completely wrong. How close she had let him, and not just physically, was wrong.

"I'm sure," she said, her voice strong. "And I don't know what you're talking about. Nothing happened in the hallway. And if something did that I was unaware of," she continued, plowing ahead, "it meant absolutely nothing."

It was a bit much, Elena knew, but completely necessary in her mind. Although lying to an old vampire about the unstable one next to her probably wasn't the smartest thing to do.

"Fine," Katherine shrugged, after a brief pause. Her eyes darted to Damon and she strung her arm through his. "We'll figure it out later. But right now," Katherine continued, rubbing against Damon as she led him across the apartment, "I could use a bite to eat."

The two vampires paused to look back at an immobile Elena, who was staring fixedly at Damon and his causal brush-off of her admittance. Did he not feel anything?

"Coming?" Katherine asked impatiently.

Damon's icy eyes met hers coolly across the apartment as he pulled himself from Katherine's grasp. _It meant nothing_, his eyes seemed to agree. Elena tugged on her shirt and pulled her ponytail free.

"Coming," she said in response, unsettled by Damon's lack of response to her harsh words and slightly displeased that she cared if he cared and hated her. She brushed the thoughts away and followed the two vampires out the door. Hopefully they would rescue Stefan soon, and the feeling that confusing thoughts and feeling that centered on Damon would cease to exist.

* * *

><p>"Is there a reason I'm here?" Stefan asked, nervously glancing at the casket. Klaus' frown deepened as he moves to open the casket.<p>

"Is there a reason you're still talking?" Klaus snapped back, and pushed the heavily ornate casket open. Dust billowed off the casket and Stefan flinched and squeezed his eyes shut. It was a human reaction, one that even after all these years was curiously still present. He pushed the thought aside, along with the dust that clung to him, and reminded himself of who he was. Of what he was. Ignoring his previous thoughts Stefan apprehensively glanced at the body in the casket and was surprised at what lay dead inside.

A medium height blond Original vampire with grey skin greeted them, the girl vampire still dressed for the 1920s. In the middle of her chest, ruining a silvery dress, was a dagger. Klaus gently stroked the girl's frozen curls, murmuring, "Rebekah. How I missed you, sister."

It had been long, too long, since Klaus had seen his sister. Not since she chose to finally stop running, leaving him alone as they were hunted. His hand clenched as he remembered the betrayal he had felt at her honest clear eyes.

"_No, Klaus." Her voice was deceptively sweet as she stared at him. The harsh words were out of place as she stared with her pitying glance._

_At his side his fist clenched. He wasn't supposed to be pitied. She wasn't supposed to leave him. This wasn't supposed to happen._

"_I'm tired of running," she continued, her eyes hardening with the same stubbornness that had led him to letting her survive. Before, he admired her strength and willpower, believing it was a nice second to his. Now, he hated it._

"_Rebekah," he said, some emotion leaking into his voice. She couldn't leave him. Not now, not because they are found again. The look she gave him was one he couldn't figure out. _

_It hovered somewhere between disgust, hate, wonder, and love._

"_Careful, Klaus," she chided, her momentary confusion gone. The same impenetrable mask was back in place, the love and hate she felt for her brother quickly masked once more. "Your emotions are showing."_

_He decided in that moment what he had to do._

Stefan watched, slightly disgusted by the way Klaus gently tugged the dagger from her heart. It took a while for the grey veins to fade from her skin, and while she returns to her natural pale color Klaus turns to Stefan.

"Our little party will have a new addition," Klaus drawled, gesturing to his sister. "But she will more likely than not be uncooperative. While still weak from lack of blood, she's still stronger than you, Ripper. So be," Klaus continues, emphasizing each word with a jab of his finger, "careful."

Stefan nodded, miffed. There was no reason for him to be considered weak: he had fed heavily for the past three days. He sadly thought of his unfinished afternoon snack that Klaus forced him to leave at the hotel, claiming that much better treats were waiting in the city. Stefan cautiously appraised Rebecca, watching her body heal itself. This was not exactly a welcome treat.

Klaus' thoughts threatened to spiral into a depressing black hole and he knew he must get away before Rebekah woke. She always knew him better than he would have liked, he remembered from their many years of running together. She could always figure him out, even though he could never figure her out. Klaus cleared his throat and declared loudly to Stefan, "She will be hungry. I'll find her a snack. More or less willing," before smiling and rushing from the backroom of the bar. Almost as soon as Klaus left one pale hand shot from the casket to grasp Stefan's throat.

"Don't," a breathy voice whispered in his ear. Stefan struggled against the graying hand anyway, and the hand only squeezed his throat tighter. Stefan gasped and weakly clawed at the hand, which by the minute was returning to the normal pale pallor of a healthy vampire.

"I said don't," the voice whispered once more, in a slightly exasperated tone. "Is this really who Niklaus spends his time with?"

Stefan made a strangled noise in response, and the girl in the casket rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. "Well," she sighed, "at least Klaus brought me a snack." Faster than Stefan could track Rebekah had sat up and latched her teeth on his neck, tearing into his skin. Stefan let out a strangled cry, but she quickly muffled him by clamping a hand over his mouth. Stefan could feel the blood of the three college girls from earlier that morning run through his body and to Rebekah's eager mouth. At the first taste of the girls' blood she hastily pulled away to whisper, "Like girls a bit much, Ripper?" Her hand remained clamped over his mouth, preventing him from answering, and she took that as a sign to continue. Her fangs pierced his neck once more and she savagely began to bite and tear at his throat, seemingly set on tearing his throat apart.

Stefan began to feel weak, the power and strength from that morning's feed leaving his body. Gray veins crept up his body and he staggered slightly, leaning into the Original in the coffin for complete support. Rebekah must have taken this for encouragement, Stefan dazedly thought, for she continued to drink from him. Just when the veins steadily crept up his neck and Stefan was convinced he was surely going to die, a commanding voice sounded from the door.

"Rebekah," Klaus snapped at his sister, rushing forward to the coffin with a compelled man in tow. The human stumbled at the speed Klaus moved with and Klaus shoved him aside. The man fell to the cement floor, letting out a small noise of pain which Klaus promptly ignored with no more than "Stay, you fool. And be silent."

Klaus quickly pried Stefan from his sister's deadly grasp and pushed the Ripper to the man crumpled and waiting on the ground. Rebekah jumped from the coffin and stared at her brother with her fangs still extended. Her eyes were black and glittering as they watched him, the veins under her eyes threatening.

"Niklaus," she said coldly. Her blond hair quivered angrily as she shook her head. "I wasn't finished with my snack."

Klaus only watched her tiredly with a look of morbid curiosity etched on his face along with a tiredness he had worn at their last encounter. He couldn't believe that after all this time she hadn't changed her mind. Dread settled in his stomach, and he wondered if she could even be trusted now.

"You know perfectly well that he wasn't your snack," Klaus returned lightly, jabbing a finger at Stefan, who was hunched over the man who was noiselessly struggling against the vampire's bite. Stefan was feeding messily, the man's neck a gory sight, and showed no intention of stopping.

Rebekah watched Stefan hungrily and with a disgusted look on her face. She didn't retract her fangs and menacingly glared at Stefan. "It should have been."

In moments the man was dead and Stefan dizzily stood, still feeling weak after almost dying. He felt that one man wasn't even close the replenishing the blood he lost.

"Leave us, Stefan," Klaus said icily, his eyes trained on Rebekah still. Stefan bared his fangs back at the threat Rebekah sent to him, and didn't show that he had heard Klaus. Rebekah smiled at Stefan and Klaus knew she was up to her usual manipulating games again.

"Listen to your master, Stefan," she taunted, reminding Klaus all too much of the devil whispering in his ear. "Don't think for yourself. He obviously doesn't think you're strong enough."

Stefan quickly glanced at Klaus and then darted back to Rebekah. Klaus hated his sister in that moment, hating how she could wield the power from a vampire's blood to manipulate others. He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at her. She only cattily smiled back at turned her leer back on Stefan.

"And why should he look down upon you? You're magnificent; you're powerful; you're savage. You're the Ripper. You've wiped out villages, you've killed schools, you've murdered whole parties of people."

Stefan unconsciously stepped towards Klaus, his eyes trained on Rebekah. Blood dripped down his mouth and was smeared across his mouth. His fangs were still bared and the look on his face only became angrier as Rebekah continued to speak.

Klaus watched this, not amused at all. "Rebekah, stop." She ignored him and continued to subtly compel Stefan without using compulsion at all. The immense jealousy and anger bubbled inside Klaus and he stepped toward his sister.

At Klaus' sudden motion Stefan leaped at him, spurred by Rebekah's ability to spin even the smallest inkling of jealousy or hate in a person. Klaus casually reached for Stefan's throat and held him inches away. Stefan snarled at him, trying desperately to tear into Klaus with his fangs. Klaus looked directly into Stefan's blackened eyes and said easily, "Stop struggling and leave us."

The compulsion slowly worked on Stefan, and his fangs disappeared. His stepped away from Klaus, a dazed look on his face, and slowly made his way from the storeroom, stepping on the dead man without remorse.

Outside the storeroom Stefan confusedly stared at the few occupants of the bar, his hand smearing the blood along the bottom of his face. One of the witches hastily approached him, determined to wipe the blood from his face and clothes. Stefan let her and strained to hear the Originals' hushed conversation. Rebekah glared at her brother. "I was having fun, Nik."

Klaus fumed at her, his eyes bright with anger. "I don't care, Rebekah. You can't feed on vampires. And you certainly can't compel them, not if they are already under my command."

Rebekah straightened her slivery dress, her hands ghosting over the bloody hole the dagger had left behind. She smiled deceptively sweet and pressed her hands to her sides. "But Nik, I didn't compel him."

Klaus knew she hadn't compelled Stefan. It was simply another difference that separated him from his siblings. They could each control an emotion to a certain extent, and could easily manipulate it in someone. If they were powerful enough, they could even plant the emotion in someone. Rebekah stared at her brother, and a superior tone took to her voice.

"Really, Nik," she drawled, "I would have thought by now that you could keep your jealousy in check." She tsked and waltzed toward him. "You really are quite a bore to be around. Full of angry jealousy."

Klaus stood still and smiled at his sister. She was undoubtedly right. He had to keep his emotions in check if he were to be around her. No point in feeding her power and making himself vulnerable to her.

"It's wonderful to see you too, sister. Now we must hurry. The witches are waiting," he said calmly, pleased at his flat tone.

She stepped back. "I don't think I will, Klaus."

He frowned and impatiently glared at her. "I don't have time for this, Rebekah."

She turned away from him and began rummaging through her lavishly decorated coffin, her hands questioningly searching the red velvet until her hands found what they were looking for.

"I said no, Klaus," she repeated, he back still to him. He stepped closer to her, his hand reaching for her. The frown on his face had turned to a scowl and he impatiently whirled her around.

"What do you mean—"he began, but he never was able to finish. Lighting fast, Rebekah leaped on him, knocking him to the floor, before she plunged the dagger that had previously been in her chest into his heart. She was strong; he'd give her credit for that.

"You know that won't hurt me," he laughed as she stood, keeping her foot planted on his chest.

"I know," she hissed, her eyes so full of malice and hatred that Klaus didn't say anything more.

"I'm not going to meet these witches," she snapped, kicking him. Klaus let her. Better she take out her anger now then on the helpful witches in the bar. "I'm leaving. As I should have done a long time ago."

At this he freezes, watching her warily from the ground. He moved to take the dagger out but a swift kick to his side stopped him. Barely restrained anger bubbled under his clenched fists.

"I will never forgive you, Klaus," Rebekah hissed, tears sparkling in her eyes. "You were the one person who wasn't supposed to betray me. The one I could count on, especially after Mikael."

At the name Klaus flinched, and then anger steeled him and he refused to let the fear in himself win. The name meant nothing anymore.

"I hate you, Klaus." Rebekah angrily wiped the tears away. "And I hope you rot in hell. And I swear it, I will see to it myself that you get there."

Before Klaus could stand to apologize, or even force her to stay, his sister was gone. All over again, he lost her. The same unforgiving light was in her eyes and Klaus didn't think he would ever forget it. The one thing he knew about his enigmatic sister was that she meant every word she said and never broke a promise. He slowly stood and eased the dagger from his chest.

Moments after Stefan warily entered the storage room, his eyes searching for Rebekah. "Where—"

Klaus cut him off and slammed her ivory coffin shut. "It'll be a fun hunt," he said, his eyes glinting with hurt. The anger he had nourished for centuries came back at full force at the repeat betrayal of his sister. She had hurt him, deeply. And he would see to it that she never would again. Stefan watched him quietly, slightly afraid of the unrestrained malice and hate in Klaus.

"I'll find her. And when I do," Klaus whispered fiercely, more to himself than Stefan, "She will never forget it. Not even as her body bursts into flames in the pits of hell."

His eyes turned a bright, threatening golden and his werewolf canines elongated. No, Rebekah would never forget him, would never hurt him again. Klaus would win, like he always did. He would make sure of that.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please, review. it would be a pretty awesome thing to do... **

**It's late. G'night.(:**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Well, hello. i know it's been a loooooong time since i've updated, but i swear i've never been this busy before! and i've had half of this chapter done for a while, so i just posted the first part. i figure that since its been a while, i should put SOMETHING up on this site. and er, happy new year? i know i'm like two months late... well, better late then never, hmmm? :) i guess i'll shut up now. oh! wait! i've decided to do shorter chapters to try and update faster. though i think it might be a good 2 weeks before my next update. **

_Three Weeks Earlier:_

"Wait. You're going where?" Elena crossed her arms indignantly at Damon. Damon coolly looked up from packing numerous sets of clothes into a black suitcase.

"Andy and I are going on a romantic getaway in Kentucky. We'll be back in about five days," Damon calmly told Elena, pushing past where she stood resentfully in the middle of his room. He scanned the contents of his bathroom, reaching for the necessary toiletries and stuffing them into the matching bag. Elena dutifully followed him and angrily said to his back, "Bullshit."

Damon paused in stuffing toothpaste into the bag and looked up at the mirror, catching her angry gaze. "Excuse me?"

Elena didn't back down and continued to glower at him. "You don't do romantic weekends."

Damon turned to face her, his cold gaze appraising her flushed cheeks. "Oh? And why is that?"

"Because— you're you. Damon Salvatore doesn't do that kind of stuff. It's something—" she broke off abruptly.

Damon knew she was about to say, "It's something Stefan would do." The fact that she didn't believe he was capable of kindness and romantic crap that was associated with relationships stung. It didn't matter that she was probably right.

"Well, now Damon Salvatore does," he snapped at her, avoiding her as he walked back into his room. He zipped his full suitcase shut and pulled it off the bed. Elena suspiciously glared at him from the bathroom doorway, no doubt preparing more questions.

"Damon—"

"Hey, are you ready yet?" Andy's bright voice sounded as she pushed open Damon's bedroom door. Damon quickly tore his eyes away from Elena, who only looked annoyed at Andy's interruption. But when Damon opened his mouth to respond to his girlfriend he knew the damage had already been done. Andy's happiness had obviously dimmed and a flat look took hold of her expressive face instead.

"Oh. Hi Elena," she said unenthusiastically. Elena replied with a matched enthusiasm, and Damon mentally groaned at the awkward exchange. He moved to usher Andy to the car. He rolled his suitcase behind him and murmured in her ear, "We're late for the spa reservations, dear."

Andy shifted around to face him, a confused happiness lighting her face once more. "What spa reservations? I thought we were supposed to meet with the police—"

"I'll meet you at the car," Damon said shortly, and from the way Andy instantly clamped up he knew she had gotten the hint that where they were going was a secret. A closed off look shut out her happiness and Damon wondered if she was upset he hadn't told Elena that what he was doing for the week didn't concern her, or if she was simply angry that Elena was in his room.

Over one hundred years later and he still didn't understand women.

"Yeah," Andy said shortly, before hurrying down the stairs and slamming the door to the Boarding House shut.

Damon sighed and turned to face Elena, who stared back at him smugly. "I knew it."

Damon frowned and snapped, "So what?"

Elena triumphantly grinned and moved toward him, stepping over discarded shirts and jeans. Most were black, of course. "So why are you two going to Kentucky, then?"

Damon stared down at her, looking into her big, trusting brown eyes. From the innocent look she was giving him he desperately wanted to tell her, let her know about the latest development in his research. But then she would demand to go, he would tell her no, she would sneak away anyway and follow, then Andie would be pissed…

He grinned coyly at her, immediately stopping his dark train of thought. Weren't all his thoughts dark lately? "Wouldn't you like to know?"

With that he flashed away from her, quickly dumped his suitcase next to Andie's in his Mustang's backseat, and already had the key in the engine when Elena finally arrived on the porch.

"Damon!" she screamed, and he only responded with a smile as he revved the engine. Andie irritably shifted in the front seat, annoyance at Damon and Elena's actions clear.

Damon sighed and with one final salute to Elena, he pulled off, heading towards the destruction and sadness that was Kentucky.

Later

"Why is he going there, Ric?"

Ric shifted uncomfortably as he prepared a meal in the Gilbert household. He hoped half cooked spaghetti would satisfy the two teens. A burned smell permeated the air, and he swore as he dove toward the stove. With a sigh he pulled it open, and miserably placed the burned garlic bread on the counter.

"Ric?"

Elena's persistence was irritating, Alaric distractedly thought, annoyance bubbling at the questions. Just to shut her up so he could at least cook the vegetables correctly Alaric quickly bit out, "Andie's sister is missing, and a lot of blood was found at her sister's apartment. Her sister's roommate was also found, torn to pieces."

The gruesome photos Damon had showed him earlier flashed through his mind, and Alaric continued, "Andie thinks it was Stefan, Damon agreed to check it out. I'm not supposed to tell Ele…"

He trailed off and his eyes snapped up to face the horrified teen, having forgotten to who he was talking to.

"Elena—"

"We have to go," she breathed, her eyes wide. "Stefan—"

"It's too dangerous," he quickly said, cutting her off.

Elena narrowed her eyes, reaching for his car keys. Alaric always had a travel bag and vampire hunting weapons and kit in his car trunk. "Are you coming with me or not?"

Alaric sighed and turned off the stove. Jeremy better like half-cooked corn… Alaric's eyes coasted over to the spaghetti sauce he had supposedly been fixing. It was overly lumpy, and was a nasty brown-black.

And for that matter, Jeremy better like plain pasta and burned garlic bread.

Elena was already waiting in the car with a small travel bag and purse when Alaric finally climbed into the driver's seat, having left a note for Jeremy explaining where they were going and money for food. He had added an extra twenty for ordering pizza in for dinner tonight.

When they had been driving for at least forty minutes Elena said softly, "Thank you, Ric."

He nodded in reply, realized after that she couldn't see him in the dark. She wasn't a vampire.

He didn't bother to respond with words, silently continuing to drive, all the while thinking how he was sick of vampires, his newfound fatherhood, and dealing with the supernatural.

* * *

><p>"I know they're still in the city."<p>

"Really? And what makes you so sure? I figured you were too busy munching on frat boys—"

"Yes, and they were _delicious_. But unlike you and all your damning human qualities, I can actually multitask. And all those yummy, delicious, satisfying boys? They were all from the college that dead girl was from."

"And why should we believe you, Katherine?"

"Well, Elena, as far as I know you have no other leads. Either take what I'm offering or leave it. I can wait a couple years, decades, centuries. But can you?"

The conversation at their window booth overlooking the busy sidewalk in the diner was quickly over, with the only human at the table staring out the window morosely, the male vampire's face closed off and his eyes harsh and angry, and the female vampire the only one that looked slightly amused.

* * *

><p>"Why do I have to keep going to the college?" Stefan whined, following Klaus out the bar.<p>

It had been five days since Rebekah had escaped, and Klaus had been distant and cruel for the past days. The hybrid was hell-bent on revenge, having postponed his questions and plan to create more hybrids for the time being. Instead he had instructed the witches to perform tracking spells, but with Rebekah being an Original they could only discover she was still in the city. Klaus then made the witches send every painful thing they could toward his sister, the calculating look in his eyes never disappearing.

"Because I told you to," Klaus snapped, quickly walking towards the alley of _Gloria's_. The stench of a burning cigarette alerted him to the fact that they were not alone. Klaus held a hand up, motioning for Stefan to stop moving, and the vampire grudgingly obliged.

"Meredith," Klaus said coolly, turning to a shadow against the wall of the opposite building. A dark from detached itself from the wall and moved toward them, smiling. Stefan stared in surprise at the girl. She was beautiful, really, with dark hair and eyes and an inviting smile. But human, he noted curiously staring at the burning butt of the cigarette between her lips.

As if noticing his scrutiny she tossed a smile at him, before dropping her cigarette and crushing it beneath her black flats.

"Klaus," she said in a cool voice. Stefan glanced between the hybrid and the human, confused.

"Meredith, meet Stefan. Stefan, Meredith will be accompanying you to your classes."

Stefan snarled, quick to jump to anger at Klaus' words. "Why? I don't need a _fucking_—"

Klaus dryly held up his hand, silencing Stefan once more, before snippily adding, "Actually, maybe you are in need of one of _those_."

Meredith looked alarmed, tugging on her leather jacket anxiously. "That wasn't a part of the deal, Klaus."

Klaus laughed, clearly amused by the angry blush creeping up Stefan's neck. "Relax, Meredith." He quickly sobered, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Just do your job and I won't make you."

Her eyes slightly widened, before narrowing to dark slits. Stefan had to give the stranger props; most would have fled from Klaus' threat.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she coldly snapped, turning to leave the alley.

Klaus smiled as she left, his eyes following her swaying hips before turning back to face Stefan's accusing glare. His smiled only widened and he threw an arm around Stefan's shoulders, laughing. "You want to lose the babysitter, Ripper? Then bring me back some results," he suddenly snarled, his mirth disappearing from his face as quickly as it had come.

Stefan threw Klaus' arm from his shoulders, throwing his hands into the air.

"What am I supposed to look for?" he snapped angrily. "The stupid professors are babbling idiots. You won't believe how many of their facts are wrong."

Klaus backed away, his sickeningly bright smile lighting his face once more. "Shouldn't you be doing your homework, Ripper?"

Stefan growled and flashed to stand menacingly in front of Klaus, his hands reaching for the hybrid's throat. Klaus moved faster, batting Stefan aside easily and pushing him to the dirty ground. He swiftly kicked Stefan's stomach once, effectively knocking the air from his lungs. He then stepped meanly on Stefan's arm, grounding the heel of his shoe into the vampire's arm until he heard the satisfying noise of a bone snapping.

As Stefan howled in pain Klaus bent to look into Stefan's face, squatting to stare into the pained face of the kneeling fool in front of him. Stefan cradled his broken arm gently, panting as he struggled for air. Quickly, a metal wrench was thrust into Stefan's chest, and he opened his mouth at the shock of the immense hurt that rippled from the crowbar's place in his chest.

Klaus twisted the metal piece around Stefan's chest, blood seeping through the white shirt Stefan wore on the place opposite his heart. "Never," the sadistic hybrid hissed, "try that again. Or you might find this—" he twisted the metal bar once more in Stefan's chest, causing Stefan to whimper with pain "—just a little closer to your heart."

With that Klaus strode from the alley, brushing dirt from his hands. A pleased, slow smile formed on his face. He remembered her weakness for knowledge, especially in war history and tactics. His smirk widened as he thought of the university that boasted one of the best programs. She'd show up eventually.

He'd find her.

Klaus thought of the dagger waiting in his room, begging to return to its rightful place inside Rebekah's heart.

Oh, yes. He would win.

* * *

><p>"Honestly, I don't understand why you even bother tagging along if all you're going to do is complain," Elena hissed at Katherine, stalking away and gripping the floppy hat to her head. Her blond wig felt scratchy against her cheeks, and she wondered again just how ridiculous she looked.<p>

Katherine scowled and continued walking at her slow pace, stepping carefully through the crowd of students milling around the campus. "You're going the wrong way," she called after Elena, making a sharp turn to head toward glass double doors, not checking to see if Elena was following. The administration was easy enough, and she could have laughed with how quickly they were joining the war class.

Elena stormed over to to Katherine furiously. "You could have—"

Katherine waved away her next words with an impatient one-fingered gesture. "Hurry up, Beatrice," she said, her voice deceptively sweet. "We're late for class."

Elena muttered something about Damon, but Katherine didn't care enough to listen. She led them quickly across the campus, ignoring Elena's grumbles as they escalated in volume.

"Why couldn't Damon have taken me today? Why am I stuck meeting her with you?"

Katherine didn't pause in her hurried steps, and only threw words quickly over her shoulder. "Damon had a lead to follow up on. I figured considering who the lead was… he might be of more use."

Elena could hear the coy smirk that was undoubtedly coloring Katherine's smug face as the double meaning of the words hit her. So Damon was off seducing another possible lead, leaving her stuck with her evil vampire doppelganger.

Something twisted in Elena's stomach at the thought of Damon seducing someone, but she couldn't put a name to what she was feeling. It wasn't jealously exactly, but she knew she wasn't impartial to what he was doing as she sat through a boring lecture about wars.

Or who, she thought viciously.

She pushed the thought away, rushing to keep up with Katherine. All she knew was that she didn't like the idea of Damon with someone else. This was completely stupid, of course, considering what happened with Andie…

_She stared down at her hands, horrified. How could she have down that? How could she?_

_The daze she was in quickly lifted as Damon roughly grasped her shoulders, shaking her, shouting into her face._

"_What did you do?" he screamed, his voice hysterical and angrier than she had ever heard. "What did you do?"_

The events of that night filled her mind, distracting her as she followed Katherine. As she realized Katherine had slowed to a stop, she blinked, shaking herself from her thoughts, Elena stared at Katherine, annoyed once more by the vampire. Katherine held open the door to the classroom, and Elena wondered how she hadn't noticed they had arrived at the classroom.

"After you," Katherine hissed. Elena shot her a glare before quietly entering the room, conspicuously lowering her head and taking a seat at the only half-filled lecture room.

At the sound of the door opening and clicking shut, the students distractedly turned to face the newcomers, ignoring the professor as he continued to talk.

The two girls were met with twenty-eight curious stares. A frown pulled at Katherine's face suddenly, and she moved in front of Elena protectively even as the students faced the front once more.

All but two.

Elena's eyes landed on the boy's face first, and she felt the color drain from her cheeks, before suddenly an odd, chilly warmth ran through her blood. The green eyes were wide with shock, before the face collapsed to remain expressionless. His eyes flicked over to the girl sitting a row away from him, her long curly blond hair shaking as she glared angrily at Katherine and Elena.

"Shit," Katherine muttered, glancing between the blond girl and the guy Elena was solely focused on.

Elena raised her hand to her neck, feeling the comfort of the necklace he had given her so long ago it seemed. She didn't notice the blond girl; she only had eyes for him.

"Stefan," she whispered, her voice breaking. She could have stared there forever staring at him, if Katherine hadn't pushed her into an empty seat.

Stefan stared slowly at her, before coolly looking away.

For the millionth time in the past months, a lonely tear slipped down her cheek, not even coming close to the heartbreak she felt inside.

_To Be Continued..._


End file.
